“How did that come about?” asked Hardy.
“Well, I suppose Colonel Anstruther didn’t know that there was any chance of his being attacked,—didn’t know, in fact, that any outbreak was likely to take place,—or his neglect of precautions would seem to be of a piece with what we remember. He was marching, with a number of waggons and 250 men, as Redgy said, along the road, his train being half a mile long, when, at a place called Bronker’s Spruit, two Dutchmen rode up to him and handed him a paper, which was found to be a letter from Joubert, who calls himself the Boer General. It stated that war had been declared between the Republic of the Transvaal and England, and called on him to surrender his men and waggons. I suppose Colonel Anstruther hardly thought that the summons was seriously meant; at all events, there was no superior force visible, to which he would be unable to offer resistance, and he only replied by forming his men in column and desiring them to move on, but—”
“But Joubert had planted his sharpshooters under cover everywhere round, and they opened their fire on the soldiers before they knew of their presence.”
“That was it, certainly. In ten minutes half the men had been shot down. They were entangled in a marsh, and had not been able to get sight of any enemy to shoot at in return.”
“Exactly; and then, I suppose, Colonel Anstruther surrendered?”
“Precisely; that is what he did, and he and his surviving men were taken prisoners.”
“He could do nothing else. But I am afraid this will prevent any good being done by my mission. You say this occurred some weeks ago?”
“Yes,” said Margetts; “the catastrophe near Middelburgh took place on the 28th of last month, and this is the 28th of January.”
“Why, the 28th of last month was just about the time when I set out for Bloemfontein!” cried Hardy. “It is most extraordinary that I never heard this before!”
“What have you been to Bloemfontein for?” asked Rivers.